


A Swift and Uncompromising Response

by fandumbandflummery



Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Secret Crush, best hope that room is soundproofed, now not so secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 18:50:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10747710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/pseuds/fandumbandflummery
Summary: It was true that he was being a bit oddly these days - but it was nothing to do with involvement in anti-Imperial conspiracies.





	A Swift and Uncompromising Response

**Author's Note:**

> This was written aaaaages ago originally - before even Season Two of SWR had come out, hence the characterizations of the now ex-Agent and the Lieutenant.

“Lieutenant Lyste - a word?”

Yogar had nearly thrown his datapad across the room with a fearful start. For a big man, Agent Kallus was terrifyingly stealthy, and he'd been completely taken off guard by the voice behind his back. He spun around in his chair to see the doorway practically filled by the agent’s towering body, and nodded as he stood up. He’d followed the agent into the office that had been provided for the ISB representative’s use, pretending not to notice the worried and pitying looks from the ministry’s desk-workers from behind their cubicles. 

He stood dumbly in the centre of the room while the agent stalked to the other side of it, taking his time, as though he was enjoying the prolonging of Lyste’s torment.

“Secure office,” and the door slid shut, locking with a click while the windows tinted themselves black. Yogar suppressed the urge to shake in fear or shudder with some other baser emotion - for all that he was genuinely afraid for his life, he couldn’t deny that Kallus was at his most magnificent when he was playing the consummate Imperial officer, confident and powerful.

“I’ll cut straight to it, Lieutenant - I know you’ve been hiding something from me,” came the agent’s voice again, as he walked slowly around the lieutenant, each carefully measured step drawing him closer and closer in a slowly constricting circle. 

“You’ve been avoiding any contact with me, and your superiors have drawn my attention to your increasingly secretive ways and disregard for standard protocols. In short, Lieutenant,” a slight turn of the head, as his eyes met Lyste's. 

“You are a suspect.” 

Yogar shuffled a little in place. It was true that he was being a bit oddly these days - but it was nothing to do with involvement in anti-Imperial conspiracies. However, he was fairly sure that sure that telling a high-ranked ISB operative with a reputation for mercilessness and swift, uncompromising responses that the reason for Yogar’s avoidance was a lack of trust in his hormone-ravaged body not to pop a boner every time Kallus looked his way was not a wise move.

Then the steps halted, and Yogar looked up first to see charcoal-coloured synthwool and a rank-patterned collar - odd, the agent wasn’t wearing his cuirass today - and then tilted his head up further to behold Kallus’s face. He swallowed as he took in the sight as such close range - Kallus's look was cold, the expression made all the more effective on his chiseled, cruelly handsome face, framed with thick, perfectly trimmed sideburns. The agent leaned down and now that face was mere inches away from Yogar, and those brown - no, not brown, *gold* - eyes practically bored through his own.

“If you have something to hide, now is your chance to come clean with…minimal consequence.”

Well, at least it wouldn’t go on his gravestone that Supply Master Yogar Lyste met his end like a coward. Without breaking eye contact, Yogar reached up and daringly brought his arms to cross over behind the agent’s neck, and closed the few remaining inches of space between their lips.

He felt Kallus tense, and Lyste prepared for either the cold press of a blaster’s muzzle against his skull or the visceral thud of a fist to his belly.

But the agent didn’t strike. Melt seemed to be a more fitting title for his next move, as his lips parted easily under the lieutenant’s and his arms came up to wrap around Yogar’s lower back and draw him closer, placing strong hands on his hips while his thumbs rubbed circles through his tunic. Yogar couldn’t help a sigh against the agent’s willing mouth, as he relaxed into the hold.

Kallus must’ve taken this relaxation as his cue to take the lead, because the next moment Yogar found his back pressed against the wall by the agent’s full weight and power, hands pinned to his sides, and his lips caught in a kiss that bordered on bruising. He tried to shift into a more comfortable position that didn’t crush so much air out of his lungs, and instead found his legs being forced apart and a thigh like tempered durasteel thrust between them. A little more squirming on Yogar’s behalf revealed something else just as hard against his hip, and a bit of rutting forced the agent’s mouth off his to let out a deep, rough groan against his ear.

Talk about a swift and uncompromising response. Lyste would’ve laughed at that thought, had a bristly cheek not scraped against his exposed neck, followed by a nip from surprisingly sharp teeth - and turned his laugh into a shuddering moan.

He didn’t know if the ministry’s offices were soundproofed, but he prayed to whatever deities watched over Lothal that this one was.


End file.
